From Fiction To Real Life
by Shaariin13
Summary: 8059   Do you have someone you like? Someone whom you want to be with so much it hurts like a physical blow in your chest? Well, I do. But I can't have her. Why, you ask? Simple: she doesn't exist... Boy love!
1. Chapter 1: AYA HURRICANE? NOT!

****I wanted to try writing something that wasn't Vocaloid for a change, and this is what I ended up with haha! It was supposed to be a one-shot, but with the way it's rolling right now, it'll be a few chapter's long, and it also happens to be boy love themed =w= Nothing explicit or anything! The highest rating that I'm allowing is T.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own Shaarusu and myself of course haha! And the book title; i made it myself =w=

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><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 1: AYA HURRICANE? NOT!**

_[Do you have someone you like? Someone whom you want to be with so much it hurts like a physical blow in your chest? Well, I do. But I can't have her. Why, you ask? Simple: she doesn't exist...]_

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

"Having a hard time, Yamamoto-kun?"

I looked up from the hardbound in front of me to see the kind face of our English teacher, Shaarusu-sensei. My lips stretched to a bright grin. "Ahaha, hardly," I said.

He chuckled good-naturedly. "Really?" he asked. "You're the very first in all my classes to tell me that."

"You're sister's a pretty good writer," I complimented. He smiled at that.

"I'll tell her that," he stated and patted my arm. "Thanks, Yamamoto-kun."

"You're welcome, Sensei," I answered, and he passed on to check on the rest of my classmates.

It was English, last period before lunch. We were reading this book entitled 'Of Bombs and Swords' written by Shaarusu-sensei's twin sister, Shaariin*. It was about a secret agent named Aya Hurricane, her missions and misadventures with her fellow agent: sword-wielding Yamato Keshiro (which is oddly close to my name, Yamamoto Takeshi). Shaarusu-sensei wanted to introduce us to international literature, so he got his sister's book translated to Japanese and started us on that.

I turned my concentration back on the paragraph I was reading. It was near the end of the book, and I was ahead all of my classmates, which surprised me very much. Aya and Keshiro were defeated by a swordsman named Shark, and were now recuperating in a hospital. Aya was more or less fine, while Keshiro was critical.

"_Don't you dare leave me, you idiot!" she hissed, grasping Keshiro's uninjured hand. Aya noted it was the only part of her partner's body that seemed t__o be free of bruises, scratches or bandages. It brought more tears rushing to her eyes, and she fought valiantly to keep them from spilling._

"_You promised me, Kesh! You promised you'll always be there for me, holding my hand, helping me through." Her eyesight blurred and tears fell from her eyes in torrents._

I felt my heart squeeze. It was embarrassing to admit, but I fell in love with Aya Hurricane. Sounds pathetic, right? I even got jealous when Keshiro confessed to her one time when they had to separate for their safety. I mean, who wouldn't? She was beautiful: flowing, long silver hair, flashing green eyes and fair, flawless skin (the cover art helped my imagination). It wasn't only because of her looks. Her loyalty to her boss and friends was unwavering, the will to go and prove everyone wrong to judge her admirable, and the fiery temper adding spice to her personality which matched her weapon of choice: explosives.

I guess it was a consolation that she fell in love with a Japanese guy like I am, and the fact that Keshiro, in the cover art, looked eerily like me, with raven-hair and chocolate brown eyes (this book is doing my vocabulary wonders!)

It seemed only a few moments passed since I got out my book when the bell rang, signalling lunch.

"Okay, guys, time for lunch!" Shaarusu-sensei called from in front. "I expect everyone will be finished with at least half of their book by tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, Sensei," our class collectively answers.

"Good," he smiles. "Happy lunch, everyone."

"Rise!" the class monitor calls out, and we follow. "Bow!"

Shaarusu-sensei inclines his head in acknowledgement then leaves the room, still smiling.

The class then starts with an uproar, with chairs scraping, students talking, and bags rustling as lunchboxes were brought out.

"Yo, Takeshi!" someone called out, and a few moments later, my friends from the baseball team, Toshirou, Jin and Kyou were sitting in front of me

"Hey," I grinned. My bentou was already out, and I was trying to punch in the straw on my milk box.

"Man, I barely understood anything from that story," Toshirou complained when we were eating.

"You meant this?" I asked him, mouth full of sushi and gesturing to my copy of 'Of Bombs and Swords' that I hadn't manage to put back in my bag. He nodded.

"If it's any consolation," Kyou piped in, "I didn't either."

"Me, too; I'm not even in the middle." Jin agreed. "What about you, Takeshi?"

I shrugged. "Almost finished it, actually."

Their jaws dropped, bemused expressions painted on their faces. I laughed.

"What? It's a good read," I reasoned. "Sensei's sister did a good job, considering it was her first work ever published."

They stared at me a great deal more, before- "Who are you and what did you do to our Takeshi?" They were holding their chopsticks like they would their baseball bats, trying to threaten me, but the humor were clear in their eyes. I simply laughed, like I always did.

**~8059~**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

"Tch, can't this damned taxi go any faster?" I hissed under my breath. I took a deep drag from my cigarette and blew the smoke out the open window. I wanted to be in Namimori already; wanted to find this... Sawada Tsunayoshi and see if he deserves to be the Vongola Decimo.

A few minutes more and the taxi stopped. "Here we are: Namimori Prefecture," the driver announced.

"Finally." I got out of the suffocating vehicle after handing the old man a roll of bills and muttered a faint "Thanks."

I walked around. This place was a far cry from Italy: narrow roads, houses divided by walls and made up mostly of wood. At least it was clean; fresh even, with trees and plants on every property. I think there was even a pond in one of the front yards.

"Well, better start looking for my apartment," I mumbled as I lighted a new cigarette. I had a feeling it would be long day.

**~8059~**

"Tch, damned, hard-to-find complex..." I grumbled as I slumped on my couch. I had a hard time locating the apartment complex I had contacted before arriving to Japan, and my jet lag got me tired out. Good thing the stupid apartment's already fully-furnished.

I reached for the cigarette pack in my pocket. Hmm... Only two sticks left. I shrugged. "Meh, I'll save these for tomorrow morning." I didn't want to trudge around in the dark to find a convenience store; maybe I'll pass by one on my way to school.

"Huh, school," I scoffed, staring at the Namimori Middle uniform hanging on my closet door. The memories of my last days in Italy came to my mind...

_"Why do I have to attend school, anyways?" I asked the superior who was briefing me._

_He sighed, like he was talking to an annoying, redundant five-year old. "Because the Decimo candidate, Tsunayoshi Sawada, attends school."_

I shook my head. "Whatever." With that, I turned around in my bed and tried to get some sleep.

**~8059~**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

"Good morning, class!" Shaarusu-sensei strode into the classroom early next morning.

"Eh? Shaarusu-sensei, what are you doing here at this hour?" Kyoko, a classmate of mine, asked.

"Oh, well, Minami-sensei had an emergency to attend to," Shaarusu-sensei explained. "It was all quite sudden; she called me last night to ask if I could inform the school she was taking a leave of absence, and if I could take over her History classes for her."

Talk started to break out, almost everyone making guesses why Minami-sensei left in a rush. I said _almost_, since I wasn't included. I was determined to finish 'Of Bombs and Swords', not because it was school work, but because I wanted to know if Aya would be happy in the end.

The door opened, and everyone around me gasped. That should have gotten my attention, but I was so engrossed in reading I didn't even bother to glance up. I faintly heard a scratching on the board, indicating writing, and I finally looked up, curious why it was suddenly so quiet. My jaw dropped and the book fell from my hands and landed with a soft thud on my desk.

There, in front, stood Aya Hurricane in all her tangible glory. But... it can't be. This person had chin length hair and was wearing the boys' school uniform. This person was a _guy._

"Now, class, settle down," Sensei appeased. "We have a new transfer student who was studying overseas from Italy. Gokudera Hayato."

My classmates started murmuring nonsense. But my eyes were transfixed in front._ T_he vision ruffled his fringe to expose his pierced ears and ringed fingers. He shifted slightly, and the sun glinted from the buckles of his two belts, crisscrossing on his slender hips.

His emerald eyes rested briefly to my face, and my heart did a little flutter. Oh, man. I am _so _screwed.

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><p>* yes, that is moi. <em>Shaarusu<em> is actually my genderbend's name (you can call him Ru-kun :DD), and he doubles as my twin brother

Yeah, so, there's a lot that i made up here, and I won't be following the manga faithfully, since I'm going to alter a few things to fit into the story, but it wouldn't be a bother... I just hope this won't end up going into hiatus like my first series =w= Constructive criticism helps me in improving, but any kind of review would be appreciated! Hope you enjoyed :DD


	2. Chapter 2: VISIONS

Hello new chapter! I thank everyone for the support this fic is receiving; it makes me want to write faster! Imagine my surprise when I discovered that in less than 24 hours, I've gotten at most 15 reviews/favourites/story and author alerts! Thank you so much, minna-san! I'm actually pretty worried that this might end up like my other series that are on hiatus, but if i get more love, I might finish this in no time! Thanks again, minna-san!

****Disclaimer: ****I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own me and my genderbend \(^A^)/

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><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 2: VISIONS**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

Why is this idiot staring at me? No, scratch that. Why is this fucking creep _gaping_at me?

"...dera-kun? Sumimasen, Gokudera-kun!" I heard the teacher call me.

"Yeah?" I asked, scowling, trying to hide the fact I was freaking because of this... ogling freak. I made it seem I was ignoring him in the first place.

Shaarusu-sensei (saw his ID) sighed. "No, it's nothing. You're seat is the one by the window, beside Sawada-kun. Sawada-kun, please raise your hand."

A kid with brown spiky hair and wide eyes slowly raised his hand. My eyes narrowed. So this is the Decimo candidate, eh? He looks like a deer caught in the headlights!

Then I groaned. The seat I was supposed to be taking was in front of the staring pervert! Damn, does life fucking suck or what?

**~8059~**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

The transfer student who looked like my beloved Aya was to sit _in front of me? _Is life great or what? I wanted to rush to Sensei and cry at his feet; wanted to clamber to the roof and sing my heart out; wanted to crush the silver-haired beauty slumping in front of me to my body and—

I blushed heavily. Whatever my mind wanted to do to Gokudera Hayato was classified in what my senpais in the baseball club called NSW (Not Safe for Work), or SPG (Strict Parental Guidance), or just plain _inappropriate._

I shivered at the thought. It would be years when I would realize why I trembled so much that day.

**~8059~**

"Jyuudaime, Jyuudaime, Jyuudaime..." I mumbled. _Tsuna, Tsuna, Tsuna; it will always be Tsuna, eh, Gokudera? _I thought bitterly.

It had been a few months since Gokudera transferred here to Namimori Middle and my baseball slump, and a little less since I became a part of their 'mafia game'. In all honesty, though, I knew what I've gotten myself into (thanks to the book Shaarusu-sensei's sister wrote). I just thought that if I acted all innocent like Tsuna did, then maybe, just maybe, Gokudera would notice me, too.

From below thick lashes, I looked at the two people who had become a huge part of my life lately. My eyes lost some of their edge when I saw Tsuna's carefree smile. I can't completely hate him, you know. Aside from the fact he didn't want to be the Tenth in the first place, he was also the one who saved me when I attempted to end my life via jumping off the school building roof.

But it still hurt: how he manages to get Gokudera's trust, adoration, and simply his attention so effortlessly. All he needed to do was breath, while me? I have to make an effort, acting all naive and downright stupid just to get Gokudera to throw a glance at me, and it's almost always a glare, too.

I sighed, completely dejected.

"Ne, Yamamoto, are you okay?" I heard Tsuna ask.

I looked up immediately, my hand automatically flying to the back of my head and ruffling my already unruly, spiky hair. "E-Eh? Ahahaha, of course, Tsuna. Why wouldn't I?" I lied. I was all smiles, but inside, I was silently berating myself. _Baka! Be careful, you know that Tsuna's always been very keen! _

"I guess practice got me a little tired out." I laughed it off, like I always do, but it was a little forced, and Tsuna noticed. I thought he was going to press his point, so I was quite taken aback when he said instead: "Oh, okay. Rest up, then!" and gave me a wide smile.

"Stupid Baseball Nut, making Jyuudaime worry." I saw Gokudera take a drag from his beloved cancer stick.

"Maa, maa, Gokudera," I said, gauging my beloved's reaction (all seems well. _So far..._). "It's not my fault Tsuna's so nice." I've figured it out: praise Tsuna, and Gokudera won't blow you up as readily as he had before.

"Che, whatever." With that Gokudera pored over Tsuna once more. I couldn't take it. "A-Ano, you guys..." I softly called as I started backing up. "I forgot I had something to tell Shaarusu-sensei. You go on ahead without me. Later!" I started running even before they had a chance to react to my hasty farewell.

**~8059~**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

I looked at Yamamoto's retreating back and sighed. He started acting weird(er) about two or three weeks ago. He would stare at me for a while and then sigh deeply. When either me or Jyuudaime would look or ask him, he would simply shrug it off and say "I'm fine" or "Everything's okay" with a smile, but lately, those smiles never seem to reach his eyes anymore.

"Why did you guys let it get to this?" I heard Jyuudaime ask worriedly. I looked at him reflexively. "Hmmm? You said something, Jyuudaime?"

"Why won't either of you talk already?" he yelled, his emotion so great his eyes were clenched shut.

I looked at my feet, my fringe covering the upper half of my face. Since when had Jyuudaime known? I voiced my question aloud.

"Probably from the start," he mumbled and I looked up. "What start?" I asked, confused.

Jyuudaime looked at me hard. "We'll talk in my room." My eyebrows shot up. This was the first time that Jyuudaime _ordered _me on purpose. And that tone of voice he used; it was so distant it was almost cold. "Y-Yes, Jyuudaime, as you wish."

**~8059~**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

"Where... Where could you be, Sensei?" I asked myself, panting. I ran all the way back to school and looked for Shaarusu-sensei. I've been at it for ten minutes already, and still no sign of him. I peeked into the Third Music room*, the one not being used, and my eyes widened at what I saw.

"O-Oh... Uhm... Y-Yamamoto-kun, what are you doing here?" Sensei asked as he disentangled himself from the woman he was embracing with. Said woman turned around to face me and my jaw fell to the floor.

She looked exactly like Sensei: same wide, brown eyes, slightly flat nose, full lips, even their haircut (layered-V, only hers was longer, and Sensei always keeps his hair in a low ponytail); absolutely identical.

"C-Could you be S-Sensei's twin sister, Shaariin-san?" I asked in awe. Hey, I was a fan!

She looked at me closer, and then her mouth hung slack, eyes wide with disbelief. One hand flew to her chest, while the other clutched at Sensei's arm.

"R-Ru-chan," she gasped. Sensei started to panic. "Sister, w-what is it? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Tell me! Why-"

"M-My vision," she spluttered. "Remember when I h-had a v-vision?"

"Which one? You always have visions!" Sensei asked, still a little flustered.

Shaariin-san (Sensei calling her 'Sister' confirmed my suspicion) turned to Sensei. "The one I used for the book," she explained. Sensei looked at her worriedly, and she stared back, a knot on her forehead. It was weird to see: like they were having a conversation with their eyes (which probably what it was). I felt like i 3was intruding.

Sensei seemed to understand what she was trying to convey to him. "Yamamoto-kun, you're the star rookie of the baseball club, right?" he asked, and I nodded. "Please, if you don't mind me asking: do you know how to use a sword?"

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><p>* reference to Ouran High Host Club, in which they occupy the unused Third Music Room<p>

Okay, hope you guys liked this one! :DD R&R, please!


	3. Chapter 3: THE MAAKA TWINS

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own me and my genderbend \(^A^)/

**From Fiction to Real Life**

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 3: THE MAAKA TWINS**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

Sensei's question started alarms in my head. "E-Eh? What do you mean, Sensei? A sword?" I played my ignorance card, starting to get cautious.

Actually, I do in fact _own _a sword. It usually takes the form of an ordinary baseball bat, but when swung in the right amount of speed turns into a katana. The kid gave it to me to use. And said _bat_ is currently hanging on my shoulder in its case. I hiked the strap higher, uneasy.

I noticed Shaariin-san's eyebrow twitch slightly, before she took hold of Sensei's sleeve. "Oh, Ru-chan, don't be silly! You're asking this cutie if he can use a sword? You might scare him away!" The tone she used was light, but there was a careful undertone.

She cleared her throat. "Sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Maaka Shaariin, Ru-chan's sister." She offered me her hand.

"Nice to meet you Shaariin-san-"

The moment our skins touched, my mind was filled with my thoughts and musings from the past few months, like my brain was pouring everything stored in my neurons off to my hand to pass to Shaariin-san.

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><p><em>-Lunch break, 2 months ago<em>

"BOOM! Ahahaha! This is fun!" I laughed. Me, Gokudera and Tsuna were currently at the rooftop having lunch. Well, _Tsuna_ was eating his lunch. Gokudera and I finished a few minutes ago and are now playing a game, our phones connected via Bluetooth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Gokudera was cursing, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, eyebrows knit in concentration as he was squirming on his spot, as if moving his physical body would help his character on his screen.

I laughed once more as I left a succession of bombs in a narrow walkway and hid to safety. Unfortunately for Gokudera, his character's stubby little legs weren't fast enough.

Boom! Boom! Boom, boom, BOOM!

"Ahahahaha! I won again, Gokudera!" I gave him my widest, most innocent smile. He simply gaped at me, mouth hanging slack, his cigarette falling to the ground. Tsuna was doing his hardest to keep from laughing.

After a few moments, Gokudera seemed to master himself. "I can't believe you fucking beat me in a game called _Bomber Man_," he muttered.

I shrugged, still smiling. "That's 5-0, Gokudera. You have to keep your promise and watch my game on Friday," I reminded.

He sighed, slightly sagging. "Fine," he said resignedly. I don't know if it was just my post-victory high, but I think I saw a small smile playing on his lips before he dropped his head a little lower so his fringe covered more of his face.

I was going to think about what I saw but Tsuna suddenly cleared his throat. "Hey, you guys, it's almost time for Lunch to end," he told us while checking his watch. "I don't want to be late for Math again."

"Of course, Jyuudaime," Gokudera jumped to attention, trying his best not to show his face to me. Was it just me, or was he _blushing_?

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><p>-<em>Two days after<em>

I came out from the locker rooms, freshly showered and still giddy from the game. We won, of course!

I saw Tsuna and Gokudera by the bleachers, waiting for me. We were going to Takesushi to celebrate. The other members of la famiglia were there already. I waved good bye to my fellow team members and ran towards the bleachers.

"Congratulations, Yamamoto! That was a great game," Tsuna said as I approached them. I ran my hand through my hair as I smiled. "Ahaha, thanks Tsuna!"

Tsuna nudged Gokudera. "Yeah, good going, Baseball Idiot," he complied not looking at me, his arms crossed. Well, that was better than nothing, right? "Uhh, thanks…?" I grinned.

While we were on the way to Takesushi, Gokudera pushed past me to walk beside Tsuna. I was going to ask him what was wrong when I noticed what he was twirling in his hand behind his back: a baseball. It was the one I hit for a homerun that I intentionally sent his way.

My pace slowed slightly, my head cocked to the side. Did he notice what I was doing?

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><p>-<em>Tsuna's Room, a week ago<em>

"Oy, Baseball Idiot, what's wrong with you?" Gokudera asked me. We were studying for a Math test tomorrow and, obviously, Gokudera was helping me and Tsuna to review. Geez, the kid was supposed to be Tsuna's home tutor, but it was Gokudera's skills that was keeping Tsuna (and me, I guess) from failing miserably. Tsuna was downstairs, getting some drinks and snacks for us.

I looked up from the problem he created for me to solve, pen in between my lips. "Hmm? Did you say something, Gokudera?" At that time, I really didn't understand what he said; I just heard his voice and noticed he shifted from his book to look at me.

He sighed irritatedly, his forehead knotting more. "I asked you what the fuck was wrong with you." Was that an undertone of worry I hear?

"Ahaha," I laughed, but it was _so_ fake it was painful. "Wrong? What could possibly be -"

"Yamamoto," he cut me off. I sat frozen as I stared at him. It was probably the first time that he called me by my name. "I-…" He stopped then sighed. "Jyuudaime's getting worried about you," he finished, not looking at me.

"Oh," was all I could get out.

He faced me, hands slamming on the floor we were slumped on. "You've been fucking out of it for almost a month now! Heck, your coach even _benched _you that one time," he pressed.

My eyes hardened, my mask slightly slipping. "Nothing's wrong Gokudera," I said in a light tone, though my face was nothing but. "Tell Tsuna to stop worrying. I'm fine."

"Well, I say you're fucking not!" he burst. His cheeks were slightly coloring from suppressing himself. I could see his fingers twitching to grab his dynamites from wherever he hid them.

"Why do you care?" I asked calmly.

He seemed to deflate from that. He shrunk back to his spot, then stood up and left the room. After a few moments, Tsuna came in carrying a tray.

"Hey, Yamamoto," Tsuna called as he set down the tray. "I passed by Gokudera on the way and he seemed down. He didn't even seem to notice me," he said calmly. "Did something… happen?"

My eyebrow twitched. There was something odd with Tsuna's tone that I couldn't place. It was like I was talking to a different person.

I shook my head minutely then shrugged. "Not that I noticed."

The next day, it was like Gokudera, Tsuna and me had a silent agreement that we were to pretend nothing had happened.

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><p>I yanked my hand back with a yelp. Shaariin-san's face held a blank expression. Her eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Before I could react, she blinked and her eyes were clear again.<p>

"You have a very interesting story to tell," she said quietly, a small smile to her lips.

"Very interesting," Shaarusu-sensei suddenly muttered behind her. He was looking at a piece of paper in front of him, his hand still poised with a pen above it.

Shaariin-san gasped. "You did his assessment?" she asked giddily as she wafted towards her twin.

Okay, I am officially creeped out. I've seen a lot of weird things ever since I've been involved with the Mafia, but this pair of twins is something I haven't encountered before.

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><p>AN: Okay, this little baby is officially AU from now on. It's still pretty similar though, a few twists here and there, no biggy. I'll refer to the original here and there, too. Sorry if they're a little OOC, it's been a long time since I had the time to watch/read the original; I only have fanfics to base from OTL

Anyways, I'll post this with the next one cause I feel so guilty that I'm procrastinating again! OTL

Unbeta-ed as usual because I'm a huge heap of lazybones XDD

R & R?


	4. Chapter 4: ARE YOU SERIOUS!

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano

**From Fiction to Real Life**

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 4: ARE YOU SERIOUS?**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

"Uhm, Jyuudaime," I mumbled as I sat down. This was _definitely not _Jyuudaime's room. It looked more like a study or office befitting a Mafia don, just what Jyuudaime is. "What is this place?"

"It's my office," he stated, smiling softly. "This is where I vanish to whenever I need to do work," he explained.

"Work?" I squeaked. I never knew he did any work (aside from the ones he did with us, of course).

He chuckled. "Oh, it's nothing big; just some paperwork whenever we trash someplace on missions." He chuckled once again, but then turned serious. He studied me for a while, and I have to admit, I was getting creeped out. Jyuudaime looked like a _real _Mafia Don right now: face professional and impassive, eyes cold and calculating, his posture was relaxed yet alert (I know that last assessment I made of Jyuudaime didn't make sense, but hey, since when did this fucking story ever made sense, anyway? Fucking author, do your fucking work right!).

"We've been watching you for a long time now, Gokudera-kun," Jyuudaime suddenly said. It was so tense and quiet before that I jumped in my chair when he spoke. I kept on silently, eyes locked on him to indicate that I was listening.

"You've had Nuono's attention since that first recital of yours ten years ago," he continued. "I was there, you know, though I doubt you'd notice with that batch of Bianchi-san's cookies you had." He chuckled at something he remembered. "Honestly, that noise you made was simply _jarring_; I never did get what the adults enjoyed with that performance." He smiled at me, the Jyuudaime I knew coming back for a while.

"Neither do I," I offered, relaxing slightly. "I prefer the classics, myself."

"Same here," he nodded, then turned serious again, but it felt less menacing now. "Actually, Nuono drafted you my Storm Guardian that early."

My eyebrows lifted at the revelation. "What? Are you serious, Jyuudaime?" Was he implying that I was already chosen even before I knew what the Mafia was?

Jyuudaime nodded. "Yes, I am; although, that… _incident _on your sixth birthday was - unexpected." His eyes hardened.

I felt my right eye twitch. "By incident you meant…" I drifted off. My head fell, trying to hide my face with my fringe.

"Your mother's murder, yes," he confirmed.

"I knew it!" I couldn't help myself. My fists banged on the desk, my chair toppling behind me as I stood up. Jyuudaime didn't even flinch from my outburst.

"Your father had nothing to do with it, Gokudera-kun," Jyuudaime said. "A rival famiglia got wind we wanted you to be my Storm Guardian and tried to interfere. She was already sick, you see. They put something in her car that sped up her illness. They hoped she would reach you and contaminate you. They didn't put the weather into account though. Rest assured, the famiglia responsible had been taken care of."

I slumped back into my chair. Jyuudaime waited for me to collect my wits before he went on.

"On your eighth birthday you found out she was your mother, then ran away to work for the mafia. Though the process was not as planned, the end result was the same: at age ten we have acquired our Tenth Generation Tempesta. Ever since then, we changed our approach accordingly. You working from the bottom up served as your training, even your mission to test out the Vongola Decimo candidate, Sawada Tsunayoshi."

I gaped at Jyuudaime. "Y-You mean… What about the Ring battle with the Varia…"

"That was to test if my drafted Guardians were worthy. Cousin Xanxus was quite convincing, ne?" he chuckled. "But everyone did well, especially you with your fight with Bel. I'm glad you listened to me and saved yourself," Jyuudaime shot me a look along the lines of "I'm proud of you."

"Now," Jyuudaime shifted in his seat, settling in more comfortably. "Watching you your whole life, we found out about your… _preferences,_" he continued, smile wide but not judging.

I blushed. I don't think I want to discuss this particular topic. "…P-Preferences?" I asked, voice cracking.

"Well, we did get curious why your certain _costumers_ were as they are but we understood as time passed," he informed me, his tone understanding.

He stood up and went to a cabinet to his left. It was a refreshment station. He put ice in two tall glasses and poured pink liquid into them from a big pitcher. He then grabbed a small platter of sandwiches and other finger foods. He then put the glasses, pitcher and platter on a small trolley and wheeled it to the receiving area behind me. As I rose to join him there, he set the contents onto the table.

"Sorry, I know how you prefer soda but I only have pink lemonade," he explained. He seemed to realize what he said when he murmured "No pun intended, trust me," while chuckling. I smiled and nodded as I sat down across from him.

I let my eyes wander his office. I was too tense upon entering that I didn't notice the portraits on the far wall of the room. They were of The Vongola Tenth Generation: Jyuudaime's portrait was in the middle, while us guardians were arching on both sides like a rainbow (though, the Mist Guardians' painting was more of a couple's scene, with Chrome Dokuro sitting on a stool with Rokudo Mukuro standing behind her). My eyes lingered on a certain Rain Guardian's framed painting.

"Reborn was right, you know," Jyuudaime said after a drink of lemonade. He was looking at the same portrait. "He may not look it, but he's a born hitman."

I blushed and peeled my gaze from the painting. I focused on my drink instead. Jyuudaime chuckled.

"Like you, we've been watching him from early on. Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was a very skilled swordsman; so naturally, we kept tabs on him, hoping his son could be useful to us. When it seemed that Tsuyoshi had no intentions on teaching Yamamoto the Shigure Souen Rue, we laid low. But then, you came along into his life and brought the Mafia with you," Jyuudaime looked at me, and I met his gaze. "If you were to ask him when it all started, chances are, he'd say it was when you first stepped into our room during History that day six months ago." Jyuudaime stood up and walked to my general direction. When he was standing beside me, he laid his hand on my shoulder. "Give him a chance," he said, before going ahead and exited his office.

I tried to digest Jyuudaime's parting words. Okay, so the idiot's been sending me signs and signals ever since we met but I just kept on ignoring him. I mean, he doesn't seem to be in the same league as I am. He doesn't even look like he was in the bisexual range! I dismissed his actions as pure idiocy. Plus, I was busy with being Jyuudaime's right hand man.

But lately, he'd been more earnest, so I entertained him for a while. I wanted to see how the idiot would react. When I started responding, he suddenly withdrew to himself and gotten more grim. I snapped at him a week ago, and his reaction scared the crap out of me. He wasn't his happy, shit-eating smiley self but this cold, passive stranger I've never seen before. So, I decided to ignore him again.

"_Well, we did get curious why your certain _costumers_ were as they are but we understood as time passed_…"

I heard Jyuudaime's voice waft through my hazy mind. By _costumers _he meant people who bought other people for pleasure. When I was starting to work for the Mafia, I needed a steady flow of cash to supply my nitroglycerin and, since the petty missions I was sent to paid low, I sold myself to sickos who had a thing for kids. Fucking bastards were usually males. It wasn't long before I became exclusive to guys since my usuals refer me to their equally sick friends; I just went along with the flow since the pay was good. One day, I just found myself attracted to the same gender. I shrugged it off. Considering my clientele, it was a bonus; at least I wouldn't get as disgusted with myself as before.

I sighed and downed my ice-cold lemonade. What a headache.

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><p>AN: What have I done? But honestly, I thought that this really could have happened to Gokudera when he was starting out. No connections, no assurances, and, you gotta admit, he's gorgeous #shot

Please review, guys. I checked the stats once and I couldn't believe how many people read this yet not say anything


	5. Chapter 5: WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE!

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own me and my genderbend \(^A^)/

**From Fiction to Real Life**

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 5: WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE?**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

"Visions? Assessments? Someone please tell me what's happening here!" I blinked and, in a flash, Shaariin-san was helping me down on a chair by the desk where Shaarusu-sensei was in (which I was sure was 2.5 meters away from me!). "I think you should sit down, our little Rain Guardian; you look about to collapse," she advised.

I jumped up and away when I understood what she said. I whipped out my bat lightning fast, swung it and pointed the newly transformed katana in their direction. "Who are you people?" I asked them, my eyes narrowed. I settled into my stance.

"Wow, he's good; fleet like a swallow, alert like a dog," Shaariin-san mused. Sensei chuckled quietly. "Like his box animals," he added.

My eye twitched with their nonchalance. "I'll ask again: who are you?"

Shaariin-san seemed to teleport as I didn't notice she got behind me until she spoke behind. "Take a chill pill, Keshi-chan. We're Clams,* too."

I whipped around, but she wasn't there anymore. My head snapped back when I felt a hand on my sword and sent it flying. Shaariin-san caught it with her free hand. "Hmm… On second thought, you need more practice," she said, before sending me flying towards the desk. Sensei caught me and set me back on the chair I was sitting on a few minutes ago.

"Really my dear sister; were all those theatrics really necessary?" he asked, left eyebrow arching gracefully. Shaariin-san simply shrugged, swung my katana, and threw me the bat when it transformed back.

"Okay, what just happened?" I was in a daze. I blinked when Shaariin-san appeared in front of me, leaning down to look me in the eye. "I didn't traumatize you, did I?" she asked me. I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so," I answered quietly. She straightened, clutching her hands to her chest. "What a relief," she sighed. Suddenly she was pulled into a chair by Sensei.

"Can't you just sit down? You hopping around is making me dizzy," he complained. She simply pouted and crossed her arms. "Thank you," Sensei sighed in relief.

"Okay, now for that explanation," he looked at me hesitantly. It seems like he didn't know how to phrase his thoughts.

"You look like someone who likes stories, Keshi-chan; would you like to hear one?" Shaariin-san suddenly piped up. I ignored the childish nickname she gave me and nodded.

I saw Sensei settle down in his seat. It looks like it'll be quite a lengthy tale.

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><p><em>Once upon a time, there was a couple of middle-age and respectable station. Now, the man, Charlemagne, despite him being head of an underworldly English family, was very kind and humane, and his wife, Charlotte, was delicate and soft-hearted. Due to her fragileness, the couple could not bear children, and this brought great sorrow to the whole family, and their ally families were saddened as well, because the man was very companionable and his wife was comely.<em>

_One day, the man was away on business. He went to the Philippines, a third-world Asian country. He arrived there with hopes that services from the British Mafia could help this ailing country rise to its feet._

_As he was about to get in his car after his meeting, a pair of children, a boy and a girl, accidentally runs into him. They were being chased by members of a local gang. Seeing their frightened, thin faces, he immediately took pity and hid them in his car, driving away and leaving their pursuers in the dust and none the wiser._

_After bathing, clothing and feeding them, Charlemagne asked for their names. The girl, who was older by thirteen minutes than her twin, answered. "My name is Carolina, and he's Carlos," she answered confidently in English, which surprised the Don very much, since the two children looked like they lived in the streets that never even stepped into a school._

"_And how old are you?" he asked again. "Eight," was the prompt retort._

_Charlemagne chuckled. "You seem like a smart little girl," he comments. She shook her head enthusiastically. "If you think I'm smart, a hundred pesos say he's a genius," she says as she cocks a thumb to her quiet brother who was writing something on paper, eyes glazed and unfocused._

"_Oh?" Charlemagne murmurs, skeptic. "He seems so quiet."_

_The boy suddenly straightens from his slump, eyes clear, mouth forming a smirk. "Ever heard of the saying 'Don't judge a book by its cover'?" he quips sarcastically. "And to think you're from the English Mafia. You're too trusting; you won't survive in this country if you don't straighten out."_

_Charlemagne is taken aback, yet laughs out loud in amusement. As he was about to hand the girl the hundred paper bill, he freezes. His hand retracts and his eyes fly to the boy suspiciously. "How did you know I'm part of the British Mafia?"_

_Carlos smirks and shows the paper he had written on._

Charlemagne Marker, 34

English, Natural born

Married to Charlotte Oak Marker, no children

Head of the Oak Family, inherited from wife's father, ranked 4th strongest family in Britain, 13th in England

Lived whole life in the Mafia, orphaned at eight years of age

Hand to hand combat specialist, can use daggers and knives, cannot handle long swords, detests guns due to trauma during childhood

Net value amounting to €1.3 Billion

"_Because of your kindness, many enemy families dislike the way you run things," Carlos continues. "Carolina has seen two of your possible deaths the whole time you were with us."_

_Charlemagne spluttered, aghast. "What- What are you talking about?" he demanded._

"_We bumped into you on purpose," Carolina explains. "If we hadn't, that sharpshooter positioned atop the building you exited would have a heavy wallet by now. The other was when we struggled and hit your driver so he would turn right instead of going straight. The driver of the eight-wheeler was paid to collide with your car."_

"_If it wasn't for us, you'd be dead," Carlos finishes, leaning on the back of his seat._

_All Charlemagne can do was gape at the two children in front of him. He opened his mouth to ask how they knew, but Carolina cut him off._

"_We're gifted," she deadpanned, as if what she said was nothing._

_And gifted they were. Carolina had the gift of precognition, or prophesy, in which she sees the future, although her visions are inconstant, subjective to change depending on the person's decisions. Carlos, on the other hand was a clairvoyant, or someone who can "see" things that can be perceived by his other senses, like assessing someone's strengths and weaknesses with only a glance._

_The twins deemed Charlemagne trustworthy, and so they confided in him. He found out that they were orphaned, their parents killed by a mob who wanted to acquire them. They worked for the underground their whole eight years, honing their bodies to survive the cruelty they suffer every day. Aside from their gifts, they were used as thieves and even child hitmen._

_Horrified, Charlemagne offered the twins his protection, looking past their powers and asking nothing in return. He came home having a son and a daughter._

_Charlotte took everything in stride, loving the children as if they were her own. Carolina and Carlos grew up to be respected, respecting youths who never used their powers for sport._

_But of course, being in the Mafia, you always die young. In their thirteenth year, Linn and Ross (for that was what the twins were known now), found themselves orphaned once more and the heirs to the strongest Family in Britain._

_Determined, the Oak Family thrived within the gifted hands of the Marker Twins, making it the strongest, largest, most influential Family in all of England. The rebirth of the Oak Family brought it to the notice of the Italian Vongola Family, Head of the Underworld._

_Fifteen year old Linn and Ross knew that the only way to survival was an alliance with the Italian Family, and so they accepted the offer without hesitation. The Oaks were now under the wing of the Vongola, and once again, Linn and Ross were left to their own devices and enjoy their youth._

* * *

><p>"Twelve years later, Linn and Ross sit in the unused Third Music Room of Namimori Middle, enjoying the company of one Yamamoto Takeshi, the Tenth Rain Guardian of le Vongola Famiglia," Shaariin-san finished.<p>

"How much more dramatic can you get, my dear sister?" I heard Sensei tease. Shaariin-san snorted. "Admit it, you enjoyed that particular story telling of your life."

In all honesty, I could care less about their banter. My head was swimming from all the information I've heard. My teacher and favorite author were Mafioso. Not only that, they were the heads of the strongest family in England, and are generously gifted to boot.

I sure got one thing right: this pair of twins is something I have _never_ encountered before.

* * *

><p>* <em>Vongola <em>is Italian for clam

A/N: Longish chapter is longish chapter pwahahahaha! Okay, so the names I used for me and Ru-chan aren't our real names, since I converted them to Filipino/Spanish (and no, my name is not Caroline, but you're getting there hahaha! Clue: I was named after a candidate from Miss Universe year 1994)

Latui-san, here's what you were asking for! This was already half done even before I read your review... Our minds work along the same wavelength, then! hahaha! :)

You might notice the shift in Ru-chan's personality. In reality, he's a sarcastic, teasing spitfire; the nice-guy attitude was just a front so people would lower their guards and make it easier for him to assess them pwahahahaha!

Anyways, it took me three hours to think and type that backstory and dang ain't it over the top =w= Well, it's a KHR fanfic, so it's bound to be that way

A critique, review, flame, or a simple "Hi :)" or "You suck!" would be appreciated XDD

**05/15/12~ ** Whoever guesses my name first gets a prize fic oneshot. Winner calls the shots, mmkay? If you're wondering what I'm talking?typing? about, check my Vocaloid story, "**_Finding It Out, Making It Right"_**where I handed out a challenge, and the reward was my two chapter **_"The__ Vow"_** I'll be waiting, minna-san~!


	6. Chapter 6: HE'S NOT HER, DEAR

A/N: I am so sorry for the late update, minna! I've been flooded by school stuffs these past few weeks and I couldn't update FF2RL. I am so sorry! Here's the next chapter. The next ones on the works I'm just lazy in encoding! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Homosexuality, crude language, crazy Mary Sues, and slapdash beta'ing (meaning it's hardly done properly).

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own me and my genderbend \(^A^)/

* * *

><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 6: HE'S NOT HER, DEAR**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

"You're confused," Sensei said matter-of-factly.

I laughed sheepishly, my hand flying to the back of my head and ruffling my hair like a habit I couldn't break (which it is, by the way). "Ahaha, kind of. That was a rough childhood you got there," I answered, referring to the story.

"I didn't mean _that_," he frowned. "You're confused about your feelings."

The smile on my face fell at the same time my hand landed on my lap. "No, I'm not-"

Shaariin-san cut me off. "Gokudera Hayato is _not_ Aya Hurricane, Keshi-chan," she sighed.

My face hardened. "I know tha-"

"You were guilty, that's why you withdrew when you realized he was responding and was starting to like you. Admit it: you don't really like him that way. You're just using him as a substitute because you can't have _her_."

Sensei only kept watching, not stopping or helping his sister, keeping neutral like the pacifist he is.

"You think you love him, but it's _her _you're really thinking of. You say his name when, really, you meant to use _hers_. You woo _Gokudera Hayato_ but all you want is _Aya Hurricane._"

Guilt stabbed my heart with every word she said. She was right (Well, to some extent she is. I'm not _that_ big of a jerk…).

"It's time to separate fiction from real life, Keshi-chan, even if that make-believe crap I wrote was based on the real thing," she finished.

My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, Shaariin-san?" I asked, my voice a mixture of hesitation, confusion, fear, wariness and…hope?

She seemed to sense the last one. "That's Linn-nee to you, Keshi-chan," she cooed, hoping to make the atmosphere lighter and help me relax for her next nuclear bomb. Being the laid-back Rain Guardian, that was easy for me to do.

"Ri-Rin-nee…?" I stuttered, finding it hard to surpass my Japanese accent and easy to smile my way out of my failure.

She chuckled, short yet humorous. "Close enough," she amended, before settling down in her chair to find a more comfortable position.

"Remember when I asked Ru-chan about a vision that I used as a basis for the book?" When I nodded, she continued. "Well, this vision came to me in a dream around thirteen months ago. I saw two youths raiding an enemy base. One was using a sword, while the other used explosives. The swordsman had raven hair and chocolate brown eyes, his blue silk shirt whispering like rain with every swipe, while the storming pyro expert's silver hair and green eyes flashed and shimmered with every _BANG!,_ silk button-up red as blood. Can you see it?"

I nodded once again, albeit reluctantly. I remembered it as the opening paragraph of the first chapter of her book; not word for word, but in the essence.

Rin-nee frowned suddenly. I got this distinct feeling that she can hear what's going on in my head and she didn't like what's there. She sighed impatiently and offered me her right hand. "How about I just show you?"

I hesitated, not quit liking the idea of experiencing the electricity flowing through my nerves. Sensei put a hand to my shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "Sure, it's shocking at the beginning, but your body'll adjust."

I nodded after a while, then reached over to Rin-nee's open hand.

The initial spark of inflow made me flinch, but what I was experiencing now was exhilarating. It was like looking through a glass screen: I could still see what's in front of me, but there was something like a semi-transparent movie screen where I 'watch' Rin-nee's memories.

**~8059~**

There was a flash of light and a heavy _BOOM!_ Debris and pieces of shrapnel flew to every direction. Two figures stepped over the decimated wall and walked confidently over the rubble and the fallen enemies who were caught unawares by the unexpected attack. The soles of expensive Italian loafers crunched over the mess on the floor, the sound ringing through the resulting silence.

The footsteps of charging subordinates thundered towards the scene of destruction. The two intruders call for their own back-up, giving out instructions as they kept their leisurely pace; it was just another mission, no need to rush, although the smaller of the two was scowling with boredom. It was the third Friday night of the month: Family Dinner Night. After this, they were to go to the restaurant of the month to meet and eat with the Famiglia.

The havoc they wreak goes on, intensifying along with the level of intrusion, but the two silhouettes do not hasten. There's still time to dawdle.

"This is boring," the silverette finally caved and started conversation. It is out of character, and it showed how weary the smaller is. This is supported by the fact that dynamites were used instead of the quite infamous system the guardian had created.

The brunette laughed, finally acting more like his usual self. "Ahaha, I know." The soft whisper of his Shigure Kintoki moving fluidly through its different forms accompanied each syllable. The bodies piled up on either of the pair's side, yet it is insufficient entertainment.

The two youths continued on their mission in the dark, wanting to get things over with so they can go eat dinner- maybe another shared plate of spaghetti or fettuccine, perhaps slices of pizza on the side- then go home, slip under the sheets and get some proper sleep in weeks. Nothing could be seen but the color of their hair and the glimmer of their shirts, often complemented by the occasional glimpse of jade and honey eyes offered by stray moonbeams.

At 7:15 PM, about an hour later, the base is completely engulfed in flames. The bombs expert's string of patience finally ran out and decided to bring out the big guns (the Flame Arrow, in actuality).

Said hothead turned around and wrapped his arms around his taller companion, face in full view for the first time that evening. Takeshi beamed and returned the hug.

"So," Hayato started. "… spaghetti or fettuccine?"

**~8059~**

I gasped as the spell was broken. I felt like I was drowning, and my head finally broke out over the surface. My eyes were bulging, unseeing and glazed. The act left my brain fried, literally: I could still feel the electricity buzzing from neuron to neuron.

"W-was that… me and G-Gokudera…?" I stuttered. The images were still fresh, branded into my memory and burned onto the back of my eyelids.

"Yes," Sensei affirmed with a half-nod while he grabbed his glasses to clean them.

Rin-nee took my hand and I involuntary flinched; she didn't seem to mind. I relaxed eventually and met her dark-wood eyes.

"Think about it, Keshi-chan: What do you _really_ want?"

I pondered on it the whole afternoon. I didn't notice how much time has passed if not for Sensei. "Yamamoto-kun, won't your father be worried about you coming home late? It's already five-thirty."

I blinked. "Oh," I mumbled, still deep in thought. "I'll be leaving then."

Rin-nee jumped up and pulled me with her. "Come on, you can walk with us; we're leaving, anyways."

I nodded. "Okay." I let her lead me out.

When we we're almost to the stairs, Sensei suddenly halted. "Sister, dear," he called. "I have to go back to the faculty; I forgot the test papers I have to check tonight. Go on ahead, I'll catch up to the two of you later." He turned back as soon as Rin-san gave him permission.

"You're wondering why we're doing this, aren't you?" she asked suddenly after a while. When I simply looked at her in confusion, she continued. "Getting you and 'Dera-chan together."

"Well, yeah," I amended. It really is baffling why the Don and Donna of the most powerful English Mafia family is meddling with the love life of two teenagers. Admittedly, said teenagers are the guardians of an ally family, but still; it really gives you something to brood over.

She smiled. "I hope you're okay with another story."

"Sure, okay," I permitted.

"Okay then. So, if you hadn't known, 'Dera-chan's been working for the Vongola since he was ten. His first mission as a Clam was to act tour guide to an English heiress while she was on vacation in Italy. That included accompanying her to wherever she wanted to go and entertain her when she was bored," she narrated.

I raised my eyebrows in question. What was the connection of this story to my question?

"Don't worry, I'm getting there," she chided, as if reading my thoughts (and most probably she had). "Anyways, the first week had been a disaster. The heiress, Carlene, got bored easily and, as you know,'Dera-chan's not exactly an entertaining person, especially when he had been a ten year old boy. Prideful, too, so you could just imagine how often they quarreled and spat at each other.

All that changed when Carlene found out that the annoying little boy played the piano. You see, the heiress was a frustrated pianist. No matter how dexterous she was, or how great her hand-eye coordination, she didn't have the patience to learn. It's probably common knowledge to those who knew him that he was impatient with everything, so it was a surprise to her that 'Dera-chan could play. When he found out, he threw a huge tantrum and barged out of Carlene's hotel suite. Hayato didn't show the next day." She laughed at this part.

I joined along with her. I could definitely see Gokudera doing that, since he's never actually outgrown his habit of exploding then walking out of the room whenever he was embarrassed.

"So, the day after that, he came to the hotel and apologized Carlene. She accepted the apology and asked if he could play for her every day until the end of her vacation. He hesitated at the beginning, but gave in when she begged and bribed him with a pay raise. They've been friends ever since. Until now, they still manage to exchange e-mails once in a while." She finally looked at me. "Any idea of who the heiress is?"

I had a pretty good guess, but before I could voice it, we heard Sensei's voice behind us. "Marie Carlene Marker, have you not tired of reminiscing your past in the form of prose?"

"Ha! Knew it! You were that heiress Gokudera worked for," I beamed.

Rin-nee laughed again. "You got that right. So," she put up her right hand. Electricity crackled from her open palm. The hairs on my nape stood on end. "If you hurt him you're dead," she finished with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

* * *

><p>I finally finished typing this *cries*Longest chapter of the series so far! Oh, I have a feeling you guys are wondering how the Maaka twins do what they do. Well, Yamamocchan was, too.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>~OMAKE~<strong>

"Ne, Rin-nee, Sensei," I called their attention.

"Hm?" they hummed simultaneously (must be a twin thing).

"How do you guys do that 'read other people's minds' thing?" I asked. I was curious.

"Well, it's not really anything complex," Sensei started. "It's just a matter of understanding science." Rin-nee simply nodded in agreement. Apparently, if it had nothing to do with her being able to tell flashbacks in story-mode, she'll let Sensei do the talking.

"As you may have noticed, our Flames are of the Lightning attribute, thus, electricity. Now, the neurons that make up the brain receive and send out low amounts of electricity to run the body. In order for us to receive prophecies and assessments, we have to be very sensitive to the electricity around us, and we have to be able to tolerate high voltages. We also have to learn how to manipulate the electricity in and around us.

So, if we want to transfer thoughts, we send out the right synapse from their brain, down the spine, through the nerves to us. The synapse goes through the opposite process: from our skin to our brains."

"So basically, you use you're the human body as a conductor to transfer the electricity to another person? Cool!"

"Of course," Rin-nee suddenly joins in. "This could go two ways: we can _get_ thoughts from other peoples brains, and at the same time, we can _plant _thoughts into theirs. We can send out the appropriate signal to their spine and their body moves. They can also see what we want them to see, like hallucinations. We can even make it seem like they thought of it themselves."

"You mean like mind control? That's why you're so good, right? You manipulate your bodies with the synapses. You guys probably heal fast, too, since you could practically 'tell' your body to heal faster. And that's how you showed me your dream, ne Rin-nee? Like an illusion," I deduced, finally enlightened. (Now don't act so surprised! I'm actually pretty smart; I just act mediocre, remember?)

"You were really born for cloak and dagger ops, you know?" Sensei brings out a piece of paper. It was the one where he wrote my assessment. He hands it to me.

_Yamamoto Takeshi, 15_

_Japanese, Natural born_

_Level-headed, not easily startled, shocked or fazed (though gets confused at certain points)_

_Gullible at times (uncompromising)_

_Laudable acting, impressive persuasion skills_

_Fast recovery rate (mental and emotional; physical is regular)_

_Calm under duress_

_Fast learner; adaptable_

_Sword user, Shigure Souen Ryu (inherited from father, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi)_

"You being laid-back makes you the perfect hitman." Sensei frowned. "This is probably the only time I'll hate anyone for being so happy-go-lucky."

* * *

><p>AN: I was gonna add more to the omake, but since it's already served its purpose of explaining how things go (and showed the assessment Ru-chan made of Yamamocchan), I thought to end it here.

I got the idea from this RL fic I read on Lambo's potential if he were trained properly. Seriously, he's more powerful than Hibari or Mukuro, ya know? He can make himself as dangerous as Kyouya while able to control other people's heads like when Mukuro possesses someone. It's like take the two of them, fuse their powers together, and you get Lambo hahaha!

(Quick query: Maybe I can make them Lambo's mentors? It's similar to how Reborn is Tsuna's tutor, or how Dino is Kyouya's mentor.)

Please leave a review. I'm hoping to hear from you guys again~!

Oh and please check my profile if the poll is finally up. Please take the tme to vote~!


	7. Chapter 7: OLD MAN CARLO

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters. Rights go to Akira Amano. I do, however, own me and my genderbend \(^A^)/

**A/N:** Okay, so most of the stuff in here was from Haya-chan's light novel 'Bakudan Bambino' (check my profile for the link!) that I just discovered last May. You might want to read that for some of this to make sense… On with the story~! Sorry for the slapdash beta'ing!

* * *

><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 7: OLD MAN CARLO**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

"Yo! Tsuna, Gokudera!" I turned around to face the annoying disembodied voice. "Shut up, will you?! I'm trying to think, Baseball Idiot!"

I faced the path to school once more just as the idiot draped his arm over my shoulder, doing the same to the Tenth.

"Maa maa~ Gokudera, what are you thinking about?" he asked, his cheek-splitting, shit-eating grin wider than usual (not that I always notice or anything like that…)

"Che!" I scoffed, taking a deep drag on my cigarette before dropping it to the ground and grind it into the asphalt with the toe of my shoe. "It's none of your fucking business, you fucking moron."

He simply shrugged the insults off and started a conversation with the Tenth.

I wasn't lying when I told him he had no connection to whatever the hell I was thinking of. Last night, I dreamt of Old Man Carlo, a small time pianist with big dreams who finally got his long awaited break when an old powerful Mafia family backed him up. I met him when I was twelve. He saw me in an alleyway when I got beat up by some thugs and took me in for a few days. His six-year old son, Niccolo, had no problem with the arrangement; the brat actually liked it, going as far as to call me 'Big Brother'.

Okay, so back to the matter at hand. In my dream, Old Man Carlo was sitting on his piano like he used to, but he looked frailer, grayer, ill; dying. Niccolo, who looked about nine, was sitting on the bench beside him, not really playing, but watching his old man with sad, pained eyes.

The older was wearing his ever-present smile (pretty similar to the one the idiot always sports), even though it's obvious he doesn't have the strength to do so.

I was pretty peeved when I woke up, and its left me disconcerted the whole day.

After two years, I dreamt that the old coot was sick. Was it true? Is that selfishly selfless man dying? Could this be a sign? Maybe I should go poke around the Vongola grapevine later after school and check on any news on the old man.

Even though lost in thought, I faintly heard Jyuudaime ask Yamamoto. "Ne, Yamamoto, you seem very happy today. Did anything interesting happen yesterday?"

My attention was now completely drawn to their conversation, though I took great care in acting otherwise.

"Oh, ahahaha! Something _really_ interesting did happen to me," the baseball freak beamed even brighter, if that was possible.

"Oh, really?" The way Jyuudaime's lip curled upward wasn't lost to me. After finding out about who he truly was, I was getting suspicious of his (seemingly innocent) smiles. I was also starting to wonder if Reborn-san was starting to rub off on Jyuudaime, or if it was actually the other way around.

"Ciaossu." Speak of the devil (devil baby, in this case) and he will come. The Sun Arcobaleno was wearing a cat costume that suspiciously looks like my Uri. He was standing on one of the shoe cabinets on the school's genkan. Geez, I didn't even noticed we've reached school. That meant I was really distracted by that nightmare.

"Dame-Tsuna, Yamamoto, accompany Gokudera to the unused Third Music Room. Someone is waiting to meet him there," Reborn-san ordered.

"The unused Third Music Room, you say?" Yamamoto sounded interested. "Is it…?" he trailed off. Damn. What does he know that I don't?

The tiny hitman smirked. "You'll see." He did an effortless back tuck and just like that, he was gone.

"Hm. Who could it be?" Jyuudaime's head cocked to the right like a curious bird. "Oh, well. I guess we'll just have to follow Reborn's order and escort Gokudera to the unused Third Music Room." He looked to his left, then his right. "I wonder where that is?"

"I know," Yamamoto smiled. "I'll take you there."

"And how in hell would you know where the fuck that is?" I growled.

He laughed. "Well, I met someone interesting there yesterday. Come on!"

'_Someone interesting, huh?_' I frowned. Why did the idea that someone else got the Baseball Idiot's attention make my heart clench?

Jyuudaime and I followed Yamamoto to the Music Building, up to the third floor, and onto the last room on the left wing.

"Here we are," he announced, brandishing his left arm in a way that reminded me of a presenter in some cheesy game show (like those models on _The Price Is Right_).

Before Jyuudaime can open the door, Shaarusu-sensei came out of the unused Third Music Room. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw us.

"Thank goodness you three are already here," he exclaimed. "I thought Reborn was kidding me when he said you were on your way; you were taking so long. Although anyone won't take him seriously considering what he's wearing…"

I drifted off along the second half of his babbling when he said Reborn-san's name. '_What the fuck?!_' I thought. '_How in hell did he know the baby hitman?_'

What was more baffling was the person sitting on the piano, softly pressing down keys; it was random, but still sounding melodic and constructed. When she turned around, I thought my jaw dropped to the ground in shock.

"Miss Linn?!"

**~8059~**

"Hayato!" she squealed, and proceeded to launch herself onto me. A compact, fit and very deadly twenty-something woman was going to glomp me, a skinny fifteen year old middle schooler in the state of shock. That was bound to end in disaster.

Thankfully, before the crazy older woman managed to squish me to death, Sensei intervened and caught her mid-air. "Sister, dear, I know you missed him in the year you didn't see him, but we don't want little Tsunayoshi to be a Storm Guardian short now, would we?"

If I was shocked with Miss Linn here in Namimori, I felt my brain shrivel up when I heard what Sensei had to say. '_Sister? That meant…_'

"Oh my fucking god, Sensei is Miss Linn's twin brother Charles?!" I gaped.

I wanted to hit myself. Why didn't I see the resemblance? They were near-perfect carbon copies of each other! No wonder I thought Sensei reminded me of someone the first time I saw him.

"Uh, Ross, I think you gave Hayato an aneurysm," Miss Linn frowned, concerned.

I heard Jyuudaime chuckle. "No worries, Sorella, Gokudera-kun will recover. He's gotten like that recently, but he'll snap out of it."

"Jyuudaime, did you just refer to this stinking rich harpy as your sister?" I asked incredulously.

"Mou, Hayato, I thought I told you not to call me that!" she pouted childishly.

"Shut up! I wasn't—You know what? No, please don't bother answering my question, Jyuudaime," I frowned. "After yesterday, I don't think anything can shock me anymore."

"I don't think so, Hayato." I looked at Miss Linn. She had a sad smile on her face. That expression of hers made me feel uneasy. "Aren't you wondering what I'm doing here in Japan?"

I nodded. My throat suddenly gotten desert-dry and I couldn't trust my voice.

"I'm here on an errand in accordance to a tragedy I received," she started.

"T-Tragedy..?" my voice cracked. I started shaking. I was positive this wasn't going to be good news.

"Hayato," Miss Linn called me. I gulped. She looked sorry. "Dear old Carlo has cancer. He's dying."

I felt my knees go weak then buckle. I slumped to the floor. Miss Linn followed me down immediately and held me close.

"I-I knew it," I whispered. I returned her hug. "I knew it. I dreamt about it last night."

"Oh, Hayato," Miss Linn sighed. She was trying not to cry. "I'm sorry." She knew how big an impact the old man had on my life. He treated me like a son more than my own father.

"Vongola Ninth has a favor to ask, Hayato," she told me when I quieted down. By that time, my head cleared and I separated from her, embarrassed at the show of emotions.

"A-Anything," I stuttered.

She smiled. "He's asking you if you can go back to Italy and stay with dear Mr Carlo until his last days. He thought little Niccolo might need the support from his Big Brother."

I nodded without hesitation. "I'll get packing right away."

* * *

><p>I'm sorry if it felt rushed, especially at the end. That's all that I could put here at the moment. Not to worry, though! The next one is on the works! Nearly there! Review please~! *heart*<p> 


	8. Chapter 8: WITHOUT HIM

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the characters aside from my OCs. Rights go to Akira Amano.

**A/N: **8th chapter, guys! After this, there will be only two more installments left! I'm so sad this will be ending, but it's been fun. It's depressing that some of you guys have drifted away because of my laziness, but it's all my fault, so I hold no grudges! I hope my old readers find this so they can manage to finish the story. Oh, and you'll see Dera-chan's whole name if you're patient enough to read this hahaha! Anyways, here's the eighth chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 8: WITHOUT HIM**

**~Third person PoV~**

It's been three weeks since Gokudera had left for Italy with the Oak heiress and Bianchi. The first few days were still pretty okay for Yamamoto, just… uneventful. But quite recently, he had gotten more restless and occupied and – dare he admit it? – depressed. It felt like something big was missing from his life ever since Gokudera had gone to visit the old man who had helped him when he was younger.

Gokudera had packed up and gone without a backward glance that same day, only stopping momentarily to pick-up Bianchi and say a hasty good bye to Tsuna. He didn't even throw the swordsman a look. At first, that hadn't bother him, since the ballplayer was thinking he was really upset. But now, the fact that the bomber didn't bother to say anything to him had left him saddened.

The Rain Guardian had been distracted the past week, to the point that he had voluntary took a break from playing baseball. In his free time, he had taken to visiting the small park in between Takesushi and the absent teen's apartment. The two had often waited for each other there before going ahead to pick-up Tsuna (well, _he_ had waited for Gokudera before going to Tsuna's, but there was one time the silverette had _voluntary_ waited for the taller teen before going on ahead).

Shaarusu had been the one who arranged everything for Gokudera: from the reason for his leave at school, sending him the schoolwork he needed to do, and submitting to the teachers what Gokudera had sent back.

Tsuna had decided that they should sever any form of contact with Gokudera for the time being so he could focus on the time he has with his dying father-figure and honorary little brother. Yamamoto agreed, albeit reluctantly.

Shaariin had been keeping him company now and again, whenever she can find the time to come to Japan. But with the issue with the dying pianist and her work as the Oak Family Donna, that wasn't very often. The teen had kept on telling her he was fine, but since when did she ever listen to what he had said?

"How're you coping?" She had asked one time.

The Rain shrugged. "Okay, I guess." _Lie,_ he accused to himself. _I'm_ confused_._

She had put a hand on his shoulder. "The way you're feeling right now, remember it when you try to settle your feelings." With that, she stood up and left.

**~8059~**

**Three weeks ago…**

He sat there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Gokudera knew that he shouldn't be shocking the ill man to death, but he couldn't help it; it's not as if he knew the old geezer was going to react that way.

The nine year old boy, Niccolo, sitting by the bedside was no better, it seemed he was far worse; Gokudera swore he saw tears.

"Yo, old man," he greeted with a warm smile. It was a rare sight; in those few weeks that he stayed with this little family, they were sure he'd never smiled even _once_; now, it was offered freely, _wholeheartedly._

The moment is broken by the greeting, and apparently, so did Niccolo's self-control. The child flew to the teen's arms, and he was accepted, tears and all.

"Big brother," was sobbed into Gokudera's shirt. The taller pulled them apart for a fraction, cradled the smaller's face on his palms, pianist fingers dug unthreateningly into curly black hair.

"Hey, Niccolo," he breathed as he swiped a thumb on the crying boy's face. "You're a man now, and men don't cry," he joked fondly.

"Says who?" Carlo sank lower into his pillows, adjusting for more comfort. It seemed the shock had tired him out considerably. "He's still just a kid. Let him cry; he missed you."

_I'm still just a kid, too, you know,_ Gokudera convinced himself as a tear slid down his cheek. _And I missed you guys, too._

"I'm back," Gokudera whispers, anxious if they were keeping him, worried that they might not want him back.

"Welcome home, Kid," the oldest cracked a grin of his own. "What took you so long?"

The teen didn't answer, instead sat on the abandoned chair beside the bed, pulling the boy onto his lap, arms wrapped around the small torso and skinny, tan forearms draped on his pale, delicate own. When they had settled down, Gokudera looked at the patient and shrugged. It was a rhetorical question, anyways: it was fine without an answer.

"I got me a job," he offers instead.

The elder raises a brow in interest. "Music-related, I hope," he murmurs, remembering when the sterling-haired teen subbed for him at his usual gig.

Gokudera shook his head in negation while he adjusted the now sleeping boy in his arms. "Nah, I'm a bodyguard."

Carlo eyed him with incredulity. "With that skinny body of yours? I doubt it, Kid."

"I am," Gokudera pressed with an eyeroll. "Remember that skinny old man with a moustache that frequents the bar you played at before; the one who sponsored your concerto?"

The last piece of information appeared to be fresh news, if the expression worn by the other was anything to go by at.

"He has a grandson living in Japan. I work for him," he finishes nonchalantly. "We're in the same class in school, too, so it's pretty convenient."

"School, huh?" Carlo scoffed. "I thought you've given up on that a long time ago?"

The jade-eyed delinquent shows his teeth. "I thought so, too."

They talk all day: about how Gokudera had reconnected with his blood family through grudgingly accepting his sister Bianchi back into his life; how happy he is with his new Family; how life in Japan is, with fireworks and sakura blossoms and the random explosions that go off every day.

By lunch time, Carlo seemed to remember something important. "Hey, kid," he called. "You never did tell me your name."

Niccolo stopped eating and zeroed his gaze on the teenage Italian, thoroughly interested.

The Storm smirked. "If I told you, you might not believe me and say I'm pulling your leg or something." He shoveled pasta into his mouth afterward.

Of course, what was said didn't deter the old man. He abandoned his chicken soup in favor of pestering the younger man. "C'mon, Kid, spit it out."

The silverette sighed and sipped his water. "Fine. It's Hayato Gokudera. Happy?"

Father and son gaped at him. "Seriously?" asked the eldest Italian in the room. The youngest is still fairly speechless.

"I warned you," the teenage pianist had gone back to his fettuccine.

The days and weeks passed by in a similar fashion: filled with reminiscing and catching up and chemotherapy sessions.

Gokudera stayed by Niccolo's side during the last mentioned, conditioning the boy to be familiar with his company. _Anyways_, he told himself every time,_ when all of this is done and over with, we only have each other to look after us._

The day finally came, exactly one month after, and it was Gokudera who arranged what was needed to be arranged, signed what was needed to be signed, received what was needed to be received. The Ninth pulled some important strings, and Niccolo ended up in Gokudera's care. The morning after the wake saw the now Gokudera Niccolo under the guiding wing of one Ignazio Hayato Gokudera Bianchi* on the first plane to Japan.

* * *

><p>*<em>Bianchi<em> is also a surname; it's ranked 5th most popular/common surname in Italy according to an Italian online archive. It means 'white-haired or pale'. 'Ignazio' means 'fire'. I dunno, seems fitting, somehow. (I'll reveal my head-cannon for Bianchi's name on her background fic that I'm having difficulties with in finding the time to encode. Supposedly, I was going to unveil Dera-chan's name there but, I dunno, I guess I wanted to get your attentions first so you guys would wait for that fic :P I'm so mean hahaha!)

Gah, Yamamoto's part was in a different tense as compared to the rest of the fic. I was getting pretty sick of the word 'had' and so stopped before continuing with Gokudera's part. You can see exactly where I stopped hahaha!

Sooooooo… Short chapter is short chapter. I'll try to finish the last two installments by the weekend, since work will flood me the next few weeks and I will disappear from existence for a while. If I don't deliver, you'll probably be served the last chapter and be kept on your toes for the epilogue. At most. Wish me luck. (That means you have to leave a review! *wink wink*)

Oh, and please, when you guys find the time, do head over to my profile and vote on the poll. When I get back from Hell, I'll work on the plot bunny who gained the most votes first. If you guys want to get updates on when I'll be able to post, check the 'Random Thoughts' section or my personal blog on Tumblr. I do that from time to time. Thanks~! #heart


	9. Chapter 9: CLEARING MATTERS

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the charactersaside from my OCs. Rights go to Akira Amano.

**A/N:** Last chapter guys! I've been swamped the last few weeks, so I didn't have time to finish this fic up. Gomen! But I hope everyone who reads this will be satisfied! To those who reviewed, thank you for sticking with me 'til the end! Until next time?

"_Speaking_" in Italian

"Speaking" in Japanese

* * *

><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Chapter 8: CLEARING MATTERS**

**~Yamamoto's PoV~**

I ran to Gokudera's apartment as fast as I can. Rin-nee called me this early this morning to tell me he arrived to Japan last night. I wanted to go see Gokudera immediately, but Rin-nee said it would be better if we let him sleep for a while. He had been gone for a total of five weeks. According to Shaarusu-sensei, Gokudera's pianist friend died on the fourth week, but Gokudera saw to the funeral, so he couldn't go home earlier. The moment the bell for the end of school rang, I was going, going, gone.

I screeched to a halt in front of the complex and thundered up the third floor where Gokudera's unit was. I was banging on the door even before I realized what I was doing.

"Gokudera! Gokudera, are you there?" I was making a din, and I didn't care if Gokudera's neighbors were looking out their doors to check who was making the noise.

Finally, the door opened, but it wasn't Gokudera who I saw. It was a young boy – around nine to ten years old – with wavy black hair and big green eyes (I think I might have an idea what Lambo would look like at that age) and a curious expression.

"Y-Yes?" the boy asked in halting Japanese. "H-How can I h-help you?"

"_Niccolo? Who's at the door?_"

I immediately shifted my line of sight from the boy to the teenager who spoke behind him. Gokudera looked surprised.

"Hey," I said, a relieved smile on my face.

"Hey," he answered back, still mildly surprised.

"_Big brother,_" the boy called Gokudera in Italian. "_Who is he?_"

I had no idea what the boy asked him, but I called guess from the tone he used.

"_Ah, Niccolo, he's my friend, _Takeshi Yamamoto. Say hi," he told the boy with a fond smile. I don't know why, but I felt a slight squeezing in my chest when I saw that soft expression directed at another person. Who is this boy?

"Hello," the boy greeted politely, bowing as an afterthought. I smiled at him nonetheless.

"Oi, Yamamoto. This is Niccolo, my little brother." My eyebrows flew at the information. "You have a brother?"

"Baka, I adopted him. He's Carlo's son," he explained, his tone a little sad.

I smiled sympathetically, but brightened when I faced the boy. "Hello, Niko-kun, I'm Yamamoto Takeshi. Welcome to Japan!"

The newly christened Niko-kun smiled back. "Thank you, Yamamoto-san."

**~8059~**

**~Gokudera's PoV~**

"Hey, guys! This is Niko-kun!" the idiot called out to the others the moment we reached his house.

"Fucktard! His name's Niccolo!" I shouted. I smiled at my new little brother. "C'mon, Niccolo, they don't bite."

He was hiding behind me. Fuuta, I-Pin and the idiot cow approached immediately.

"_Hello, _Niccolo-kun_,_" Fuuta greeted in Italian. "_My name is _Fuuta_._" The Ranking boy proceeded to introduce Niccolo to the others. He took charge in helping the newcomer settle down; probably they were both nine-year old Italians.

"Welcome back, Gokudera-kun." I turned around and saw the Tenth walking towards me. I could see the Sasagawa girl trailing behind him, and at closer inspection, I could see her smaller hand tucked into his. My smile widened.

"It's good to be back, Tenth," I greeted. "Nice to see you here with the Tenth, Sasagawa," I acknowledged. Hey, she's the Tenth's future wife; I can't disrespect her now, could I?

She blushed but smiled nonetheless. "Thank you, Gokudera-kun. We missed you."

I smiled at her, probably the first time I had since the whole Carlo ordeal, but I was grateful that I was there at his last moments. I have memories stored in my heart, and a little brother I can nurture, spoil, take care of and watch as he grows up as a good – if not great – young man.

Life can't get any better than this.

**~8059~**

**~Third PersonPoV~**

Yamamoto was having the time of his life. Gokudera was back, and he seemed to be the happiest Yamamoto had seen him ever; Niko-kun's addition to their family and Family was a cause for celebration. Over all, everything was good.

"Happy?" she asked him when he was separated from Gokudera and Niccolo.

"Very," he grinned at her. "Can't ask for more."

Shaariin raised her left brow. "Oh, really?" She smirked.

"Ne, what's that smile for?" he asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

She shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Remember our talk at the park around two weeks ago?"

Yamamoto blinked, remembering something that happened during the haze of his recent bout of depression.

* * *

><p>"<em>How're you coping?" She had asked one time.<em>

_The Rain shrugged. "Okay, I guess." Lie, he accused to himself. I'm confused._

_She had put a hand on his shoulder. "The way you're feeling right now, remember it when you try to settle your feelings." With that, she stood up and left._

* * *

><p>"Yeah…" he trailed, unsure. "What about it, Rin-nee?"<p>

"Has your heart made its choice yet?" She stared at him intently.

The Rain felt his heart thunder wildly; he could even hear his blood rushing in his ears, overcoming the noises the party around him made.

What _was_ he feeling? Who was his heart really yearning for? The girl of his dreams written in ink and residing in the book written by the very woman confronting him, or the boy he'd been through hell and back here with him in real life?

Surprisingly, it wasn't such a difficult choice.

"Yeah," he beamed at the heiress. "Yeah, it has."

Her smirk widened. "It better made the right one."

"It did," he assured. "It definitely did."

Shaariin hugged him. "I wish you happiness," she whispered.

"Thanks," Yamamoto mumbled as they parted. "I hope you do, too."

Shaariin glanced at her brother who was chatting amicably with the newly returned Storm. "I already have," she uttered mysteriously, before wafting off to the direction she was looking at.

"Welcome back, Hayato!" she managed to fulfill the glomp she was deprived of last month. Thankfully, it wasn't forceful enough to throw the teen off his feet, or else, she'd get a mouthful of silver hair belonging to her honorary little brother.

"I see you're enthusiastic as always when it comes to Little Hayato here, eh, Sister?" Shaarusu joked.

"Geez, you harpy, try exercising some fucking self-control," Gokudera laughed, but hugged the older woman nonetheless.

The Oak Family Donna pouted when she released the bomber. "I couldn't help it," she whined. "I wasn't able to see you for two years before all this, and I barely spent any time with you this month."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," the three-fourths Italian chuckled. "You missed me. I did, too, y'know."

"Awww~!" she cooed. "He missed me, Ru-chan! Did you hear that?" She attacked her twin this time.

"Yes, yes, I did," the taller man pacified his older sister.

"So…" Shaariin focused her attention on Gokudera once again. "…any progress with our elusive swordsman?"

The pyro-expert stiffened visibly. He stood gaping at her. "W-What…?"

Shaariin smiled softly. "You can't hide things like this from me, m'boy," she flicked the smaller boy's nose fondly. "I saw it with my own eyes."

Her brother did an eyeroll and she pouted once again. "Fine, I saw it with my mind; happy now?" She scowled. Her brother simply smiled his approval.

"Anyways," she motioned to Gokudera once again. "I know for certain that the future will be looking candelas lighter."

The jade-eyed guardian's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Miss Linn?"

"You'll see." She poked his nose playfully before disappearing with her twin brother in hand.

"Geez, that woman," Gokudera grumbled, slumping while scratching his head. "Taking advantage of her UMA-like speed like that…"

"Hahi, Gokudera-san! Welcome backdesu!" Haru suddenly jumped in front of him he had to take a few stumbling steps back to avoid his sorry ass mating with the wooden floor of TakeSushi.

"Geez, you stupid woman, you're no better than that crazy harpy!" Gokudera yelled.

Haru cringed. "Sheesh, Ahoudera, no need to scream at Haru!" She pouted. "Haru was simply greeting Ahoudera. Why are you so angry, desu?"

Gookudera sighed. "It's nothing, stupid woman." He shook his fringe again.

Haru cocked her head to the side, enthusiasm all but gone.

"Gokudera-san reminds Haru of Yamamoto-san when you were gone desu," she commented.

The Guardian looked at his boss' admirer. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"Well," Haru sat down on a nearby stool on the counter. The Italian followed suit.

"When Gokudera-san was in Italy, everytime Haru saw Yamamoto-san, always looked so sad," she narrated, swirling her punch in its cup. "Yamamoto-san would always sigh and look around, looking for something desu."

The boy was simply looking at her intently, as if unsure whether to believe the crazy cosplayer obsessed with his Tenth.

"It's true desu," Haru nodded, as if she read the doubt in her companion's mind. "I heard that Yamamoto-san even took a vacation from baseball because his wasn't in the game. His heart wasn't anywhere in Japan desu."

Once again the Storm Guardian was gaping at a female who knew more than she was supposed to. "W-What the… How d-did…"

"A girl's instinct can rival Tsuna-san's great intuition, Gokudera-san," Haru smiled serenely as she got up. "Remember that desu." With that, Miura Haru flounced away into the heart of the party, looking for her other female friends.

The three-fourths Italian boy was left behind, statuesque in his shock.

"Maa, Gokudera, are you okay?"

The addressed Guardian snapped out of his coma-like state at the worried tone.

"Oh, it's just you, Baseball Idiot," Gokudera gave a sigh.

"What's wrong? Expecting someone else?" Gokudera wasn't sure, but the taller boy seemed sad at the thought that the other wanted to see someone else.

The smaller shrugged, jade-eyes hidden behind closed lids when he stretched afterwards. "Not really; I just thought my poisonous sister was gonna talk to me or something."

"Why?" Yamamoto asked as he took the seat that Haru had abandoned.

"Well, aside from her, that Kurokawa girl and Nana-san, almost every girl that I've known that is currently in Japan spoke to me," he explained as he slumped on the counter. Gokudera grabbed a piece of ootoro from its plate in front of him and popped it into his mouth as an afterthought.

The moment the piece of fatty tuna slid down his throat, his worst fear was realized.

"Hayato, are you enjoying your party?" Bianchi's uncovered face popped into his peripheral before everything blacked out.

**~8059~**

"Oh god, my head…"

"Maa, Gokudera, are you okay now?"

The ill-befallen boy with bad luck in terms of family members looked up from where he was lying and saw a worried Yamamoto. He had a glass of water in one hand and a wet face towel in the other. He handed the first to the sick boy and dropped the other onto the bedside table.

"Thanks," the Storm mumbled when he had finished the glass. "What happened?"

"Bianchi-san came and greeted you without covering a part of her face. You fainted straightaway without the usual stomach cramps," the Rain explained carefully as he set the breakable aside. "How're you feeling?"

"Queasy," the silverette answered, sitting up. "Fuck, I need a smoke."

A silence descended on them for a few minutes. Finally, it was the raven-haired boy who broke it.

"I… I like Gokudera," he whispered.

Said silverette whipped his head in the direction of his companion. "No you don't," he growled.

Yamamoto nodded. "Yes, I don't," he agreed. "Because I think I'm in love with Gokudera already."

The bomber fled from his companion. "What the fuck, Baseball Idiot?!" he demanded. "After one month, I don't need your shit right now!"

"Gokudera," the swordsman called softly, slowly approaching his wary co-Guardian. "I'm serious."

"Like hell you are!" the silverette spat indignantly. "I know a rejection when I see one. After that, I won't be fooled anymore!"

"But I didn't reject you, Gokudera!" the raven reasoned. "I was just confused that time! I didn't know what I want. Please give me a chance, Gokudera."

The Storm stared at the Rain for a long time, emotions that cannot be named passed through his expressive jade eyes. Finally, he hung his head down.

"..ear it?" he whispered inaudibly.

The taller cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry, Gokudera; could you please repea-"

He hadn't finished what he was saying when the smaller interjected a little more loudly. "Do you swear it?"

Yamamoto smiled softly. "I do. I swear on my life."

* * *

><p>And that's a wrap! I'll be putting this as complete, but I'll be posting an omake for this sometime or another. Just wait for that, okay guys? This is probably the longest fic that I've written ver, and the longest one at that. I hope you guys support my other fanfics, too!<p> 


	10. OMAKE: HOW THE HECK!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or any of the charactersaside from my OCs. Rights go to Akira Amano. I mentioned something there near the end; not mine either. Credits to the owner. I don't even own the "Happy Birthday Song" so don't sue, Warner Bros!

**A/N:**Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~Happy birthday dear Hayatooooooooo~Happy birthday to you~Happy birthday, Dera-chaaaaaaan~ 3 Well, it is according to my calendar :D aaaaaand… Here's the omake I promised! Takes place TYL, okay? Warnings for this one: it ends in crack; as in a parody of a parody that it's not even funny. I worry for my mental stability.

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><p><strong>From Fiction to Real Life<strong>

by Shaariin13

**Omake: HOW THE HECK?!**

**~Third Person PoV~**

"How're you feeling, Takeshi?"

Said Guardian turned from his warm cocoon of blankets on their California King to the bedroom door where his husband was standing: pianist fingers loosening the constricting tie, the Armani jacket on a hook on the door, feet out of the expensive Tanino Crisci's and free in woolen socks.

"Okaeri, Haya—choo!" Yamamoto rubbed at his nose and sniffed. "Scusa," he mumbled.

"Well… That answered my question," the silverette commented. "Eaten anything yet?"

The bed-ridden man shook his head. "Not really."

"I'll go make dinner, then," Gokudera said after he had changed out of his red collared dress shirt into a faded black wife beater. "Soup sound good?"

A nod was his answer.

He went out of the master bedroom and down to the kitchen, all the while mentally checking if they have enough ingredients for chicken macaroni soup.

He checked the cardboards and decided that some garlic sticks are in order. Nodding to himself, the feared Vongola Tenth Generation Storm Guardian and Right- Hand Man to Vongola Decimo went about to cook dinner for himself and his sick husband.

'_Tch, husband my ass; more like charge,_' he mentally scoffed as he splashed some olive oil in a baking dish with slices of bread and spices before putting it in the preheated oven.

Half an hour later, he was setting down a tray on their bed and helped a sick Yamamoto up.

"Geez, just last week it was me who had the flu," the silverette commented as he handed a smoking bowl of soup to the raven. "And now you. This just disproved the saying 'Idiots don't get sick' y'know."

"I just hope it's not that MP3-something that's spreading worldwide,*" Yamamoto commented off-handedly. He took a spoonful of the thick soup and sighed happily. He didn't notice his husband staring frozen beside him.

**Two months later**

"Well, will you look at that? Congratulations, Hayato," Shamal leered at his former student. "Your little Sparrow's one month pregnant. You're a father now."

All Gokudera could do was stare at Yamamoto who was sitting across from him, a sheepish expression on his face. "Well, it seems like I really _did_ get the Uke Flu that time."

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><p>*MP3REG36 (commonly known as the 'Uke Flu') – taken from <strong>Cerberus Revised'sJunjou Romantica Fanfic "The Uke Flu"<strong>. Rights belong to **Cerberus Revised**. The original story is moved to your fanfiction dot com (remove the spaces and replace the dot) under the same title and author. I advise you guys to read that. It is AWESOME with a capital O (**OOOOOOHHHHZUUUUUMMMMMMEEEEEE E**) and GENIUS with a capital J (**JIIIIIIIINNNNYYYUUUUUUUUUSSS SSSSSSS**)

XD lols, I am greatly in doubt of my spelling skillzzzhahahaha

Review guys!


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